


Minor Injuries

by Catlady45



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Family Dynamics, Gen, Love is complicated, M/M, Mentions of MJ, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22623547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catlady45/pseuds/Catlady45
Summary: Franklin’s parents decided to take him and the rest of the Future Foundation on a ride through the cosmos for a chunk of his formative years, which was, without doubt, a pretty amazing way to grow up.Except…there are some things that didn’t really prepare him for, like being dumped for the afternoon with 1 (or 2)(or 3) uncle(s) he barely remembers and who clearly didn’t get the memo that Franklin isn’t 9 anymore. Lucky for him, being part of the Fantastic Four means there’s usually enough big distractions to keep your mind off the little things.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Johnny Storm
Comments: 18
Kudos: 77
Collections: Spideytorch Bingo





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to Fuzziestpuppy and Dottie-wan-kenobi for their help with this one, and to Dottie for getting the Bingo together!
> 
> This is set in roughly the time after the FF return to Marvel 616, but before the dawn of the Mutant Nation on Krakoa and all the tensions between the X-Men and F4 really blowing up.

“You know you don’t have to escort me, right? I mean, when you were my age you were flying all over the city by yourself,” Franklin said as he stepped out of the taxi into Midtown Manhattan. It was only his second time downtown since Future Foundation’s extended trip through the multiverse, and it was even more crowded than he remembered. “And, no offense intended Uncle Johnny, but I have way better control over my powers than you did back then!”

Johnny didn’t even try to suppress his eye roll as he took hold of Franklin’s shoulder, steering him across a crowded intersection towards what he swore was the best place in town to find jeans that “make your butt say ‘hey!’ - but in a classy way.”

Franklin had no idea what that was supposed to mean, and he had serious reservations about wearing anything that turned his rear into a statement. But saying no to his Uncle Johnny, once he got an idea in his head, wasn’t something he was good at. Never had been, even when he was 7 and couldn’t imagine a time when Johnny would be anything but easy to talk to.

Hmm. How had Ben gotten out of this trip?

“No,” he’d said, settling into armchair before Johnny even finished listing the stores they were going to visit. He popped open a copy of the Daily Bugle in front of his face.

“Yes!” Johnny insisted, not so subtly lighting the corner of Ben’s newspaper on fire. Ben snuffed it out between his fingers, reached under the chair to pull out a second copy of the paper, and settled back into reading with another firm: “No.”

And that had been that.

Franklin suspected that tactic only worked if you were 600 lbs and made of boulders. So, here he was, dodging tourists trying to catch pictures of skyscrapers and preparing for a day of staring at his own ass in those stupid tri-fold mirrors stashed in every dressing room ever.

“Listen, Franklin,” Johnny was saying, “It’s no secret I did dumb stuff as a teenager. Whatever you’ve read on the internet, I promise that’s not the half of it. But now, you get the benefit of my worldly advice to avoid looking stupid.”

“And that includes new pants?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m really not sure that’s…”

“Did you know when I first got my powers, the only thing I could wear was my uniform?Everything just…poof! Up in flames! I didn’t realize until later that I had a huge image problem.”

“And you don’t have one now?”

Johnny smiled brightly (as if there was any other way he could smile) and said, “Nope. Now it’s all part of the Human Torch brand. But back then, Reed’s home-made fireproof pajamas didn’t make for the best impression at parties. Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I got chased out of my first girlfriend’s house by a giant web bat?”

Franklin scrunched his nose and stealthily checked the time on his phone. “You mean like a baseball bat?”

“No, like, the squeak-squeak bug-eating kind. But way bigger. And stickier.”

“Sure,” Franklin said. But really…what? He hadn’t really noticed before they left to build new universes, on account of being so young and surrounded by the general craziness that was his family’s life, but ever since they came back, Franklin had started to realize that Uncle Johnny’s life was… weird. Weirder. As in, odd even by Fantastic Four standards. His stories barely made sense, his friends were bizarre, and half the time he was talking Franklin couldn’t tell if he was even being serious or not.

“Anyway, we’re over at her house with her friends. Total dweebs. We get to talking about me, and my powers, and my - get down!”

It took Franklin a moment to realize that last bit wasn’t actually part of Johnny’s disjointed narrative. Thankfully, what his uncle lacked in clarity, he made up for with the ability to melt shards of flying glass with his body. Franklin peered through the flames towards an exploded window of the coffee shop they’d been walking past. Some kind of vines snaked through the opening, and a girl’s scream came from inside.

And then Franklin had to duck again as a red and blue blur of a man flew out of the window and over his head, only to be quickly snapped back in by the same creepy vines.

Hopefully Spider-Man had some sort of super-resistance to whiplash.

Johnny didn’t hesitate before flying straight in after Spider-Man. He dodged the writhing vines easily as they pulled back from the heat of him.

Franklin brushed off the knees of his uniform, eyed the broken glass edging the exploded window, and headed for the front door instead.

An upturned table mostly blocked the door from opening (that explained why no one was running out the front), and Franklin relied mostly on his hearing and the otherworldly, flickering shadows on the ceiling to get his bearings on the situation.

“She’s just a kid Johnny!” Spider-Man managed to yell in spite of what Franklin assumed were vines closing around his torso. Johnny seemed to be circling the shop, herding the vines back towards their source. There wasn’t any more screaming, but he could hear someone crying from the general direction of the register.

“Get away, just get away!” a girl’s voice sobbed out.

“No one left but us,” Spider-Man answered. Franklin managed to push open the door enough to confirm that the shop did look empty, other than the four of them. The vines were retreating towards the girl, settling in snake-like piles around her body. They seemed to be attached to her shoulders. He wouldn’t have described her as a kid, exactly. She looked about his age, probably just a little younger.

Her head was in her hands, her knees on the ground, and her eyes flashed orange. Spider-Man wriggled away from the vines as best as he could manage. “I know, I know, we’re a real thorn in your side. Get it? Because of like, your thorns, in my…”

“Oh stop it, bug-brain,” Johnny cut him off. He didn’t flame off as he crouched in front of the girl, but his fire noticeably dimmed. “Just ignore Spider-Man. He’s always like that. Look at me. Just me. Hey. It’s ok. You’re not gonna hurt me. I don’t think your leaves like me very much.”

She kept crying. “I — I think there’s some kind of poison. My — my mom…”

“She made it out the back, with everyone else. And I hear the ambulance right outside,” Spider-Man said. “Look, we’re going to go check on them right now. Promise. Hey, Powerhouse, can you head on out and make sure the paramedics know they’re dealing with an anticoagulant. The poison doesn’t seem to be doing anything else.”

Franklin nodded and slipped back out the door, only slightly thrown that Spider-Man was including him in the mission by sending him away from the mission. Of course he did. Johnny and Ben treating him like he was still a child was one thing, but Spider-Man too?

Oh well. It did seem like pretty important information to pass on.

The girl’s mom, Teresa, was a little scratched but ok. Just minor injuries, no big deal. Even fewer scratches for the cashier and the couple who had been sitting closest when her X-gene kicked in. At least, that’s what Franklin assumed had happened, based on the general situation and what he was hearing from the other bystanders. He couldn’t hear what was happening in the shop anymore, which was annoying, but through the open window he could see Johnny still kneeling next to the girl — Maria — talking softly and letting his fire die out little by little.

Spider-Man stood silently by the busted out shop-window with his arms crossed. The lenses of his mask reflected Johnny’s slowly dimming flame, and he didn’t move a muscle until the police started creeping closer to the scene.

Spider-Man waved Franklin over and leaned in conspiratorially.

“Looks like the vultures are moving in,” Spider-Man said.

“Are they going to take her?” Franklin asked. Maybe it was something about the shared X-gene, but the thought made him a little sick to his stomach.

Spider-Man looked over his shoulder at Johnny for a quiet moment. Johnny made a couple of complicated gestures with his eyebrows before finally nodding and reaching a fully flamed off hand out to Maria. When Spider-Man turned back to him, Franklin could swear he was grinning under the mask.

“So, Franklin,” he started, “when you were in space, did they ever teach you how to create a diversion?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Franklin gets a front row seat to the Peter and Johnny show. Some people are more entertained than others.

Franklin hadn’t seen Ben and Johnny in years, but he thought about them all the time. He wondered what adventures they were having; imagined what it would be like to join them when they finally got back together, now that Franklin was older and had some experience under his belt.

He hadn’t imagined being stuck adjusting the lab security settings while everyone else worked on solving actual problems.

Ben was waiting at the open containment unit by the time Johnny got Maria into lab. He even had a couch and a couple chairs pulled over to it for Spider-Man and Teresa to sit on. Maria practically dove into the unit as soon as she saw it, and she’d been pretty quiet ever since. Franklin had even tried to cheer her up by talking about ideas for her future super hero uniform, but she’d shot down every attempt he’d made at conversation.

“Nicest cage I’ve ever been in,” she finally said to Johnny as she pretended to nonchalantly appraise the lab.

Franklin finished fiddling with the video monitoring program on his tablet before handing it off to Johnny.

“Point 1: it’s not a cage; it’s a containment unit. It’s not even locked. Point 2: it is pretty nice, isn’t it?” Johnny said.

Spider-Man tapped his chin thoughtfully and peered through the glass box. “Have you guys updated this recently? I don’t remember having a mini-fridge last time I was in there.”

Teresa looked slightly faint as she traced the outline of her daughter’s hand. “I don’t know if I should be concerned or grateful that we’ve been taken in by folks with so much experience at this sort of…thing.”

“Why not both? The Fantastic Four are widely known and appreciated for their ability to attract trouble, as well as for their hospitality. Speaking of, Torch, you mind if I use your shower?” Spider-Man asked, already stepping onto the elevator.

“Please do. You smell like coffee grounds and day old whipped cream,” Johnny answered. He held up the tablet for Maria and her mother to see the video feed. “This little guy lets us see what’s going on in here when we’re not around. Anything goes wrong, we’ll be back in flash.”

Maria’s eyes glowed widely, and the vines hanging at her shoulders raised like cobras.

Maybe Spider-Man shouldn’t have gone upstairs just yet.

“You’re leaving us here? You can’t! My powers…”

“Your powers aren’t going to bust through a containment unit designed by Reed Richards,” Ben said. Franklin couldn’t help but feel a little swell of pride at that. “And besides, it’s not going to be long til your ride gets here. We thought you and your mom might like a chance to talk or something, before you go getting on an X-Jet.”

Maria and Teresa got very still, both focused on the floor. Franklin couldn’t help but try to break up the awkwardness.

“Hey, it’s fine. You don’t have to go with them, right? I mean, I’m a mutant, too, and I don’t hang out with those guys. But just, it might be better than waiting on the police, right?”

Judging by the look on Maria’s face, that had been all the wrong things to say.

Johnny cleared his throat. “Hey, Franklin’s right. You do get a choice here. Rogue isn’t going to force you on that plane without the chance to ask a few questions first.”

Teresa smiled at him. “I guess we can take your word for it when it comes to her, at least. Not many people speak so kindly of their former bosses.”

“What?” Franklin asked.

Maria’s orange-aid eyes flashed and she said, “OK, keeping Spider-Man’s mask on for his secret identity, that I understand. But don’t treat us like we’re stupid. Captain America’s pet Unity team was all over the news; it’s not like it was a secret who was running that show.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I, uh, forgot.”

Franklin followed Johnny and Ben onto the elevator. Johnny kept his eyes on tablet, so Franklin turned to Ben instead and asked, “I didn’t know you were on a team with Rogue.”

“I wasn’t. Too busy with the Guardians.”

Well that definitely wasn’t what he expected.

For some reason, Franklin had always assumed he and Ben stayed together without the rest of the family. He’d been wrong. Ben went to space, and Alicia, and Johnny had…lived in Avengers mansion or something, apparently.

Just another thing no one thought he was important enough to know.

By the time their elevator door opened into Franklin’s living room, Spider-Man was already coming back from the shower, still toweling off his hair with his mask hanging tucked from the side of gray sweat pants. Franklin ran straight into Johnny’s back as his uncle froze in the doorway.

Ben rolled his eyes and pulled the tablet from Johnny’s loose fingers, bodily pushing all three of them into the living room.

Johnny snapped back to himself with a frown. “You know you have like, half a drawer of your own clothes in there.”

“What, and risk ruining my t-shirts in case we have to play Little Shop of Horrors again? No thanks! Your fancy duds work just fine.”

“And here comes the Peter and Johnny show…” Ben grumbled.

Johnny stepped closer to Peter and eyed him from head to toe.“Ug. I actually like that shirt, Parker. You and your wounds are gonna make it all gross.”

“Super-healing, remember flame-brain? Those little cuts are nothing.”

“You’re bleeding all over the carpet, moron!”

“What?” Peter checked behind himself, and sure enough, there was a little trail following him across the living room. “Ah man, I hate poison!”

“Venom,” Franklin corrected.

“What? Where?”

“The vines — they’re clearly an extension of Maria’s body, and the anticoagulant wasn’t used on all the victims. Mostly just you, actually, and a little to her mom, implying that it had to be actively injected as a defense against threats. So. Venom, not poison.”

Peter cracked an impressed smile at him. “I stand corrected. Her venom is some nasty stuff. I swear I patched myself up — where is this even coming from?”

Johnny pushed him towards the kitchen. “You’ve got scratches all up your back, doofus. Just…go drip on the tile until I get back. Franklin, can you clean that up before your mom sees it?”

“Why do I have to clean up the Spider-Blood?” he groused.

Ben lifted his eyes briefly from the tablet and tilted his head towards the kitchen, where Peter was still twisting around trying to see his back like a dog chasing its tail, and laughed almost quietly, “You think your Uncle Johnny’s gonna let you take over that mess instead? Just give up and get some paper towels.”

Whatever that was supposed to mean, Franklin was grudgingly scrubbing at the carpet by the time Johnny opened the first aid kit on the kitchen counter.

Peter pulled at the back of the t-shirt until his shoulders were exposed, while Johnny studied him with pursed lips. He picked an actual, literal stick and some berries out of Peter’s back before tossing them into the sink.

“Peter. You had a fight in a freaking Starbucks. Why do you look like you rolled through a rose garden infested with snakes? And did you actually even wash anything in that shower? Arms up.”

Yeah, Ben was right. When these two got going it was really…something. Franklin’s brain might actually explode if he had to listen to them for much longer.

Peter dutifully raised his arms and pulled the t-shirt until it hung loosely around his neck, bracing his arms on the kitchen counter. “Didn’t worry about it too much. Little cuts like this usually don’t give me much trouble. Be gentle, nurse!”

“That’s hot nurse, to you pal.”

“If you get to be Hot Nurse, what does that make me?”

“My horribly disfigured and emotionally stunted patient, of course.”

“Hush. I’m beautiful and you know it.”

Johnny gently ran a damp wash rag up the center of Peter’s spine, a fond smile pulling at his cheeks.

Oh. Franklin stopped scrubbing and blinked blankly at the two of them. Now that he was paying attention, he realized there might be some rather important things he never noticed about his Uncle Johnny. A few of those things clicked into place as he watched them banter back and forth, one of Johnny’s hands resting lightly on Peter’s shoulder while the other gently cleaned the base of his neck, still smiling the whole time. Peter’s eyes were closed, but he looked stupidly content for someone getting a thousand tiny cuts doused in alcohol. How many times had they done this for things to be so easy between them? And why didn’t Franklin know about it?

“What you are, is a spider-themed disaster puzzle,” Johnny was saying.

“Give me a break, I’m injured! Whatever experimental Mr. Fantastic Paste you’re using back there is affecting my brain.”

“Like you’d even notice with all the dumb crap in that head of yours…”

“Ha, ha. You write all your own material or do you pay a guy? Hey — what are you putting on my back? Feels funny.”

“Alcohol,” Johnny answered. “Gauze. Bandaids with Captain America’s face on them.”

“Make it stop!” Franklin pleaded to Ben. “Are they always like this now?”

Ben shook his head with a long suffering sigh. “Afraid so. You should’ve seen them when they were planning my bachelor party. I heard they got the bar booked for free in return for promising the owner they wouldn’t come back in together for the next five years.”

It should’ve been a funny story — he should’ve felt nothing but happiness that Johnny had someone of his own while his family was away — but Franklin abruptly realized he didn’t feel very happy about it at all. Maybe it was his general irritation at the day, or maybe it was an extension of all the scrubbing he was currently doing, but it suddenly occurred to him that he was more than a tiny bit angry.

“Well that’s good to know,” he said cooly. “And thanks, by the way, for actually letting me in on something that happened while I was gone.”

“Whatcha talking about? We caught you up on the important stuff,” Ben answered with his eyes locked to the tablet.

Franklin could feel his face heating up and dug furiously at an imaginary spot on the carpet. Maybe the big important stuff everyone knew, like losing the Baxter Building. But all the things that actually mattered?

“Yeah,” he snarled, “you guys have been big into sharing. Haven’t had to figure anything out on my own, like, I don’t know, how my Uncle is dating Spider-Man and no one even bothered to tell me!”

He heard Ben’s sharp inhale behind him, and realized no one else in the room was still moving.

At least, not until the room echoed with Peter’s riotous laughter.

“Franklin buddy,” Peter said when he could finally breathe again, “I hope you don’t feel too bad about that. Nobody told me either!”

“Oh,” Franklin answered dumbly. He stopped cleaning and dared to look back towards the kitchen. Peter’s face was nothing but friendly. But Johnny — Johnny’s eyes were blown wide open and panicked, and all the color was gone from his cheeks. When he noticed Franklin looking at him he ducked his head back down to open up another gauze pad with his teeth.

“Stop moving,” he mumbled around the packaging.

“Oh no, I can’t! It explains so much! The late night phone calls; cooking my favorite breakfast in that frilly apron…”

“Peter, I will cauterize your entire back,” Johnny threatened.

“…all those idle threats to Harry when you thought I wasn’t looking; waiting for me in my bed, wearing nothing but a…”

“Ok! We’re done here. Go put on a new shirt on before Rogue lands. One of yours.”

“We’ll see about that, darling!” answered Peter gleefully on his way out of the room.

Once he was out of sight, Franklin hovered behind Johnny with half a roll of paper towels twisting in his hands, watching as his uncle silently sorted items back into the first aid kit.

If Peter had even bothered to look at him…

“Listen, Uncle Johnny…” he started.

“Yeah?”

“I’m …I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”

“Know what? Hey, throw this away for me, will ya?”

“I…” Franklin really didn’t know what, exactly. Instead of trying to answer, he started sweeping empty wrappers into the trash can.

“Make sure you wipe off that counter. Gotta get this cleaned up before we make dinner. I’m thinking — pizza! Say Ben, you wanna order some hot wings?”

“Sounds good to me. What kinda sauce you want?”

“You pick. Wait, hey Franklin, what kind of wing sauce do you like? Have you even tried…”

Truth was, Franklin hadn’t tried. He didn’t know what wing sauce he liked any more than Johnny did. But before he could say as much, he was interrupted by a muffled thump coming from the general direction of Johnny’s bedroom. He met Johnny’s eyes for the first time since making everything all weird and asked, “What was that?”

“Matchstick!” Ben yelled, suddenly dropping the tablet and lunging for the elevator. “We got trouble in the lab!”

“Shit! Peter!” Johnny whispered. He sprinted down the hall towards the thumping noise.

Franklin hurried across the room to the discarded tablet, not knowing who to follow. A shout sounded from Johnny’s bedroom, but the tablet was on silent. Franklin could see Maria frantically screaming and banging at the glass of the containment unit, her mom laying in a crumpled heap on the floor.

The building shook with the sudden force of jet engines. Instead of following his uncles, Franklin headed to the roof.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few little mistakes lead to some serious consequences. Franklin isn’t sure who to be mad at anymore.

It was pure luck that Hank McCoy was on Rogue’s plane, and Franklin knew it. One of the many pleasant happenstances of his life that no one was going to talk about, because considering the alternatives was just too damn depressing.

Franklin escorted McCoy and Rogue straight from the roof to the labs, assuming that Johnny would’ve immediately taken Peter there to have access to all of their medical supplies. By the time Franklin got McCoy into the lab, Johnny was already assessing Peter’s vitals, and Ben had started an AED on Maria’s mom. At least one of them had the presence of mind to cover the top half of Peter’s face.

The next 20 minutes were a blur.

Franklin dug out his dad’s biometric scanner. Maria’s mom started breathing again. McCoy fed quick blood sample from Teresa into the scanner, then handed it back to Franklin to watch until the toxin results could be processed. (Why hadn’t they just done that as soon as they got home? Stupid. Careless.) Rogue hooked both patients to oxygen, while Johnny set up a couple of emergency treatment rooms in the lab next door.

Within minutes the results of the blood test came back, and Teresa and Peter each had a bed in the makeshift ER rooms, separated by cloth screens. McCoy had Franklin and Johnny digging through supplies again for Naloxone, IV’s, and other odds and ends.

Spider-Man was Spider-Man, which apparently meant his body was much better at fighting off whatever he had been injected with, and he was soon breathing more comfortably and soundly sleeping off the repairs his healing factor was already making.

Not that taking off the O2 seemed to make Johnny feel any better about it; he barely left Peter’s bedside, spent a good 30 minutes getting him cleaned up and as comfortable as possible on the cot, and readjusted Peter’s mask about 18 times before Franklin had been kicked back to the containment lab.

He was tired, impressed, and grateful.

“He’s a really good doctor, right?” Maria asked from the other side of the glass, trying to suppress a sniffle.

“Yeah,” he said, settling on the floor beside her. “McCoy's great. The best. Really. He’s got awards and everything.”

“Ok.”

One word answers. Great.

Maria was turning out to be less than his favorite person. Sure, none of this was really her fault. And sure, she was having a hard day, but she could still make some effort here. The adults had quickly and wordlessly decided he was on babysitting duty the minute Teresa had been stabilized. They’d been awkwardly stumbling through conversational misfires ever since.

“So uh, what were you guys doing at the coffee shop?” he tried.

“What, you mean before I sprouted leaves from my back and tried to kill everyone? Unbelievably, we were drinking coffee,” she snarked at him.

Ok, that one was fair. “No, I mean like, you guys don’t talk like you’re from New York. What, are you like, visiting or something?”

Maria picked some fuzz off of her rainbow socks, sticking out of the gap between her faded jeans and the tops of her sneakers. Franklin wasn’t the only one that needed better fitting pants.

“Yeah. My mom, she uh, she wanted to take me to see Broadway. Go shopping. She planned out the weekend.”

“Oh. Well that sucks,” Franklin winced.

“Yeah. This is just the icing on the cake. We were already fighting when it happened. My homecoming dance was this weekend. She didn’t even check with me before booking the hotel! And then it was just this huge guilt trip about spending time together and family first and I don’t even like musicals!”

She started crying again, for real. If it had been Onome or Vil or someone he knew, he would’ve maybe patted their shoulder or something, but he was too afraid to reach out to Maria even if she hadn’t been in a glass case.

“Yeah, I don’t like musicals either,” he answered. Oh, this was painful. “Uh, but hey, at least you found us, right? Right. Sorry. I’m sorry. Would it help if I tried to eavesdrop on the other lab and see what’s up with your mom?”

Maria nodded and went back to tracing the rainbows on her socks.

A benefit of growing up Future Foundation was that your tools for snooping were much more advanced than the average nosey kid, but the downside meant that your family secrets were much more…secretive. Franklin and Valeria had gotten pretty good at finding out what they wanted to know over the years. He turned on the tablet he’d brought down from the living room and started shifting camera views and settings until he had an ok picture of the other lab with a fair amount of volume.

Unfortunately, Dr. McCoy apparently didn’t talk to himself as much as Franklin’s dad did while he was working. It was pretty much silent over there except for some rustling and beeping sounds. Dr. McCoy was replacing an IV bag for Maria’s mom, who still didn’t seem to be awake yet. Behind the other curtain, Johnny sat on one of the rolling lab stools, elbows on his knees with his head down. Peter was stretched out on the cot beside him, mask half covering his face. Franklin thought he was still passed out, too, until he noticed fingers fiddling idly with the IV line.

Franklin and Maria watched them in silence for a minute before they heard Peter’s voice coming from the tablet.

“Criminey, I hate Starbucks. What the hell happened?”

“Welcome back, stranger. Some cocktail knock-out whammy, according to Hank. Think, like, a lot of heroine. Time released through those little seed things I was pulling out of your back. The mom got hit with a few too, but not nearly as many as you did. You should be fine once it wears off.”

“No kidding? Girl’s got baby super villain written all over her. I feel like I’ve been crushed by a Hulk.”

Johnny laughed softly, “Yeah, we need to get her out of the house before Bentley comes back, for sure.”

Maria’s mom still wasn’t moving, but Dr. McCoy settled back into a Ben-sized chair to flip idly through one of Dad’s books, so she couldn’t be too bad off anymore.

This time it was Johnny who broke the silence.

“I have to ask,” he started, a fake serious look on his face Franklin recognized as trouble even through the tiny screen, “what on Earth were you doing in a Starbucks? I thought you were morally opposed to everything they stand for or something.”

“That’s true enough. Plus their coffee tastes like it was brewed in the Rhino’s left boot.”

“I’ve got all day and you’re stuck here. I’m just gonna keep asking.”

Peter hesitated just long enough to be noticeable before answering. “I hate it. But MJ likes it.”

“MJ, huh? Is this like a regular thing you all are doing now? You bringing her coffee from places she wouldn’t be caught dead in herself?”

“It’s…I mean…kinda yeah?”

“That’s great! Wait — she’s not expecting you, is she? Did you even call her? Because buddy —I love you — but that shit’s gotta stop if you really want back in her life.”

“No. It was supposed to be a surprise,” Peter shook his head, which Franklin considered a good sign for his health. “Forget the coffee —hey, what about you? Haven’t seen you strolling Midtown in awhile.”

Johnny propped his arms at Peter’s bedside and put his head in his hands with a groan. “I’ve got no idea. It’s what we used to do, when Franklin was a kid. Reed and Sue would take off with Valeria; Franklin and I would hit the town, blow up Reed’s gold card on toys and ice cream and your knock off merch. And now…”

Franklin remembered that. He remembered him and Leech buying matching Spider-Man t-shirts from a street vendor one day. Leech got mustard on T-Shirt Spider-Man’s mask when he dropped his hot dog, but Johnny convinced them that just made it more realistic.

Johnny didn’t eat a hot dog. He gave his to Leech.

“Anyway, what sad excuse for a Hot Nurse would I be if we talked about my problems all day? You need anything? You scared the hell out of me, Peter.”

Oops. Franklin should seriously consider shutting this down before Maria learned anymore family secrets. But Franklin was tired of secrets himself.

Peter tried and failed to push himself up with what looked like a lot of effort. The best he could do was to lift his hand to rest on Johnny’s forearm.

“Johnny…”

“Teresa’s heart stopped. McCoy is going to move her to a hospital upstate as soon as he thinks she’s ready for the trip. He thinks she’s gonna be fine with a little time. And what little whammy she got compared to…Peter, if you weren’t…you…”

Peter mumbled something that Franklin couldn’t quite hear and let his head fall back to the pillow. His hand slid from Johnny’s forearm to circle his wrist. Franklin couldn’t tell which one of them was crying.

He forced himself to turn off the tablet and dropped it into his lap, settling back against the containment unit before trying to talk to Maria again. He may have misjudged her, just a bit. She did at least have the decency not to try to talk about anything they’d just overheard.

“So,” he tried for reassuring again, for like the 10th time that day, “sounds like they have a plan for your mom. And I mean it, McCoy is a super-genius; if he thinks she’s going to be fine, then I trust that. And hey, Spider-Man seems like he’s doing ok, so that’s a good sign, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s Spider-Man,” she said doubtfully. Then her eyes got a little wild and she added, “Holy shit, I took down Spider-Man. I should probably feel a little guiltier about that.”

Franklin looked down at the blank tablet. He thought about Johnny’s fingertips carefully tracing the curve of Peter’s shoulder; Peter carelessly laughing his way down the hallway; Johnny smearing mustard off of Leech’s shirt and handing over his hotdog.

He suddenly pictured Johnny, eating breakfast alone in some dark apartment and wondering if his family was alive or dead, while Franklin was learning to build the universe and having the time of his life.

“I don’t know,” he finally answered her. “Maybe he needs to get beat up every now and then.”

Maria finally smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Franklin does some snooping and rethinks his opinions on shopping.

In the end, it took longer to coax Maria out of the containment unit than it did for her mother to wake up.

So much for budding super-villain.

But, eventually, they got on the plane with Rogue and Dr. McCoy, taking a decent amount of medical equipment with them to make sure Teresa would be okay. Then there was cleaning, and dinner (finally), and then somehow the day was blessedly over. 

  
Franklin really hadn’t been a kid who broke the rules. That was Valeria’s job (although, if you asked her, she’d say that she always followed the letter of the law, which translated roughly into her finding every loophole in every directive their parents ever gave her.)

That night, it took Franklin all of 10 minutes staring at his ceiling before he broke a long-standing house regulation: don’t Google family members.

Mom always said it was because they were better than that, and anything you needed to know should be found out through honest conversation and trust. Personally, he and Val had long-suspected it was so they didn’t end up finding any pictures of Johnny that weren’t exactly PG-13.

Franklin opened the tablet and started looking for information on what happened the last few years with Ben and Johnny.

From the newspapers, he found the announcement of Ben and Alicia’s engagement, and a few interviews with Captain America about Unity Squad. There were some random Instagram celebrity snaps or paparazzi photos of Johnny leaving a variety of clubs, and Ben and having lunch with Kitty Pryde and a raccoon. There were, of course, the standard super-hero reports from random tourists, including a grainy video of Johnny and Spider-Man facing off at the Baxter Building. Johnny’s fighting was absolutely furious.

Really, it was watching the videos that did it.

Words on a page, pictures — those could lie to him. But, even after everything, it turned out that Franklin really did still know his uncles; watching them in dynamic movement, catching the shifting expressions on their faces and hearing the subtleties in their voices…there was no denying what he saw there.

He stopped looking at Ben’s videos after he watched him give a speech at a banquet. It didn’t sound like he was giving an award in the name of the Fantastic Four; it sounded like Ben was delivering a eulogy. He looked old in a way Franklin never imagined.

After watching Johnny ram a burning race car into the side of a track and walk off without so much as a glance at the cameras, he turned off the tablet and went back to staring at the ceiling.

Johnny’s flame protected him from a fire.

It didn’t do a damn thing against the force of impact.

He and Val had been partly right; Mom’s rules were there to protect him. But maybe they were wrong about the kind of things she was trying to protect him from.

Eventually the clock on his bookshelf rolled over to 5:30 am, and his stomach growled, and he decided it was just as well he stayed awake in the kitchen instead of his bedroom.

Except…he wasn’t the only one still awake.

Johnny’s feet were propped on the coffee table next to a half empty pizza box. His head was turned towards the open window, but Franklin got the sense he wasn’t really focused on anything. He just looked…tired…but in a different way than Franklin was, exhausted from just the whirlwind of a day. Almost the way he looked right after coming back from the  
Negative Zone.

Franklin had to think hard to remember what Johnny was like back then. He realized it was because Johnny wasn’t around. Almost as soon as he was back, a gaunt and exhausted Johnny had gone to live with Peter. By the time he came to live with them again, he’d already been well on the way back to his normal self.

Or. 

Maybe he really hadn’t been, and Franklin just hadn’t noticed all the little things that were still wrong.

“Hey kiddo,” Johnny said, snapping Franklin out of his thoughts. Then Johnny winced and amended, “Sorry, not a kiddo. You did good today.”

He really, really hadn’t.

“Thanks,” he said anyway. “And it’s no problem, old man.”

Johnny chuckled amicably as Franklin settled on the couch and reached for a cold piece of pizza. He chewed for a minute, considering. 

“So,” he finally started, “did not care for the buffalo sauce wings.”

“Don’t let Ben hear you say that!” Johnny warned. “Apparently that’s Yancy Street sacrilege or something.”

“Oh, I’ll keep it quiet. Just promise to order me some of those Parmesan ones next time.”

“Yeah, you like those?”

Franklin nodded and swallowed another bite of pizza. “What about you? What kind do you like?”

Johnny smiled and answered, “Oh, the Parmesan ones, for sure, dipped in some of that garlic sauce. That’s the best.”

“Yeah.”

“I recognized that face, by the way, when I told you that you did good. I meant it, and it’s true, so stop beating yourself up over everything,” Johnny said seriously. Then he paused, looking almost contemplative. “Well. Mostly good. I did hear you say something like: ‘Oh Maria, your super-suit should be orange to match your eyes!’ C’mon man. You can do better than that.”

“Stop. Please stop,” Franklin begged. He’d truly hoped everyone was too busy to hear that.

“What, you can dish it out but you can’t take it?” Johnny asked. At first Franklin’s gut dropped, thinking Johnny was mad at him about the Peter thing. But no — that relaxed, genuine look was still on his face when he said, “Maybe next time you see me flirting you should stop trying to make fun of me and start taking notes.”

“I don’t know about all that, but…” Franklin offered, pulling out his tablet and closing out Johnny’s crash video quickly. When he handed it over to his uncle, all he could see was about 10 tabs of online clothing stores. “It turns out I really don’t know anything about buying pants. Do know what selvedge means?”

“I’ve got your back Franklin, as always.”

“Yeah. I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so Johnny didn’t get his metaphorical hotdog at the end of this one, but he knows he’s playing the long game here. 
> 
> (I’ve got a few more Bingo prompts though, so we’ll see what happens :)
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Started to write a short, sexy scene to fill my “minor injuries” square, and instead ended with a 6000 word something exploring Franklin’s new relationship with his uncles and what he (thinks) he sees between Johnny and Peter. Not as sexy — but hey, real love is based on much more than that, right? 
> 
> Also, Franklin and I mutually decided to ignore his power issues here - him because he’s an angsty teenager in denial, and me because I can’t even speculate how that mess is going to work out right now with the start of the XM/F4 crossover hitting this week.


End file.
